


Beyond Our Time

by harperose



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: ADHD Grantaire, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Anxiety, Depression, Enjolras/Grantaire-centric, Grantaire-centric, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Modern Era, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:55:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28514562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harperose/pseuds/harperose
Summary: They thought that he had already died in this lifetime.That perhaps he drank himself to death or overdosed on opium.Or maybe he never made it into this lifetime.Reincarnation AU
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

_**Chat: Les Amis** _

_******Marius:****** sent a photo_

_**Bahorel:** not again_

_**************Courfeyrac:************** We've talked about this marius_

_******************Combeferre:****************** Marius, what did we say about sending pictures of Cosette to the group?_

_**********************Marius:********************** But look behind her_

_**************************Marius:************************** That's Grantaire_

Courfeyrac zoomed in closer, tilting his screen, "I don't think it's him," he finally announced, setting his phone down and taking another bite of pizza.

"It's hard to know for certain," Jehan bit their cheek as they stared down at the phone.

_******************************Jehan:****************************** Marius, are you sure? Remember when Feuilly thought he found R at that art fair a few years ago?_

_**********************************Feuilly:********************************** it did look like him_

_**************************************Cosette:************************************** sent a photo_

_******************************************Cosette:****************************************** Is it him?_

There he sat, smirking up at the man beside him as he leaned into the arm wrapped around his broad shoulders. Joly blink a few times to rid himself of the memory of a wine bottle grasped between Grantaire's fingers, making it's way towards his mouth. When the image faded, there was no wine bottle, only an abstract painted mug.

Jehan cursed softly.

Joly sat there staring at his long lost friend. Eyes tracing over the features that looked so much different but somehow familiar. Bossuet turned his head away, eyes shining with something nobody understood.

"That's him, isn't it?" Courfeyrac asked, not trusting his own mind.

"Yes," Enjolras said, voice flat as he excused himself from the table.

_**********************************************Joly:********************************************** its him._


	2. Chapter 2

Lesgle was the first to remember. 

His eighteenth birthday arrived, dragging along the memories of his past. 

They started with hazy images from childhood that Lesgle thought must have been from his dream the night prior. But as the day progressed, more memories gored his mind.

When he remembered the first cannon firing- he rushed out of the classroom. 

He vaguely remembers entering the stall, trembling hands fumbling with the lock before realising it was broken. An hour later, he was clutching his head as he relived his final moments.

It wasn't long before he as sent to therapy. His aunt suggested he may be going through an identity crisis after he confessed to her while looking through old family albums that he didn't know who he was anymore. He kept his confession vague, not wanting to end up saying more than he should. 

Bossuet went willingly, much to his father's surprise. 

At therapy, Bossuet talked about not knowing who he was suppose to be anymore, how he felt that there were two different people inside of him. He kept glancing at the notebook in the woman's hands as she scribbled down notes as she asked questions. 

_"This is private, right?"_

Once she confirmed, Bossuet talked about his past. Talked about the failed Revolutionary's past, his childhood, family, friends until he came to what haunted him the most. 

The barricade. 

He wasn't sure why she didn't stop him, he must have gone over their time- but she sat there and listened until tears were falling down his cheeks and he couldn't will himself to speak any longer.

When he exited his session a week later, he found Valjean in the waiting room. 

By the time Bossuet was nearing his mid-twenties and his hair had, once again, fallen out- they discovered Musichetta. Musichetta would argue that it was her that spotted them first but her lovers would playfully disagree. 

But the reunited Revolutionaries were never quite whole. There was a heavy silence that dominated the room, even when it was already filled with voices. 

Whenever Bossuet would introduce himself to new people, he always got the same question: _Bossuet?_

_"It's a pun," he would smile at the memory of Grantaire gifting him a new nickname , "A friend came up with it," that smile would then falter, "He liked puns."_

_"I don't get it. What's the pun?"_

_Bossuet would then shake his head, "You wouldn't understand."_

"That's him," Joly muttered, pushing himself off the bench, grabbing his cane and making his way over to the man. 

Musichetta reached over, placing her hand over Bossuet's as he watched the man hand Joly a brown envelope. 

"This is it," Musichetta gave his hand a squeeze. 

The pair watched Joly and the man in silence before Bossuet mumbled, "I can't do it."

Musichetta turned her head, sweeping hair out of her eyes, "Do what?"

Bossuet turned his head towards the sky, "I can't face him."

Musichetta looked over at Joly, "Face who? Joly?" 

Bossuet shook his head, "Grantaire."

Worry creased her brown as she hesitantly asked, "Why? He's your friend."

Bossuet signed, bringing his gaze towards their hands before slipping away, "We were," he looked down at his outstretched legs, "He probably hates me now."

"Hates you?" She shook her head, inching closer to him, "You two were like best friends, Lesgle."

Bossuet nodded, "We were," he paused before muttering a confession that's been plaguing his mind, "But I'm the reason he's dead, aren't I?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you sure?" Courfeyrac asked for the third time, peering over Joly's shoulder.

"Yes, he said it was," Joly said as he clicked onto the next image on the website. 

When the thrupple arrived home the previous day, Musichetta and Bossuet were unusually quiet. Joly didn't pry, but he felt his nerves increase when they the pair went into the bedroom to talk. Joly had smiled, saying that he was going to look over the papers anyway. 

Joly sat at the breakfast island as he opened the envelope, heart beating too fast for his liking. 

An hour later he had taken a few pages from the envelope and crossed out any mention of his friends name on the remaining papers. He would later give a bland answer for his actions, mentioning that the spelling was servery incorrect and it angered Joly so much that he was sure his blood pressure was rising. 

"I can't believe you hired a private investigator," Gavroche scooped more ice cream out of the tub, "You didn't do that for me."

"Monsieur Valjean found you, not us," Courfeyrac reminded the boy. 

"How much money did you give him, anyway? He found five of us. Six if we're including mom - but I'm not sure who found who." 

Courfeyrac feels a smile tug at his lips every time Gavroche refers to Fantine and Valjean as his parents. Feuilly likes to mention his parents an awful lot when Marius is around, enjoys watching the awkward smile take place as he remembers that they would soon be brothers in law. Nobody ever teases him about it, when his eyes flick to the screen displaying various artwork, he doubts Grantaire will hold back his teasing. 

Courfeyrac had to bit his lip to keep from mentioning that nobody was actively looking for Gavroche as they didn't think anyone from outside their student group had returned. It was only when Feuilly was found and he introduced them to Fantine and Valjean, that they began looking for people outside their student club. Years later, they had yet to find anyone but Musichetta. Combeferre still looked for his wife but Courfeyrac could tell that he was giving up hope on finding her. 

Courfeyrac brought himself back to the conversation, "Five and a half," laughing at Gavroche's outraged expression. 

"A half?" Gavroche dropped the spoon into the tub, "Are you making a short joke?"

Joly snickered as Courfeyrac backtracked, "No- of course not!" He held his hands up, "Like you said, we don't know who found who, so I added half."

Gavroche glared at him before humming and picking the discarded spoon back up, "You never answered my question."

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, "It'll be the same answer as it usually is- the 'reward' wasn't created until after Valjean found you and the others."

The talk of a 'reward' started when it had been years since they discovered anybody and the anniversary of the fall of the barricade. Jehan had found themselves company of white powder again, having been three months clean, distressed when they were coming down from the high they surrounded themselves in. 

Bahorel tried to recall the full conversation in the morning, but he was only able to recover parts. He remembered Jehan had hollowly laughing about setting up an reward for their lost friends, even talked about creating posters. 

After that night the idea of an reward stuck. 

When Bossuet, Joly and Musichetta reunited, Jehan gifted the trio a gift basket after nobody could figure out who the reward belonged to. All three claimed to see each other at the same time. Nobody believed them. When everything was eaten from the basket, they finally admitted the truth. 

Then Marius was gifted ice cream that Gavroche was currently eating. 

Courfeyrac unconsciously glanced over at Marius, squinting at documents as he rubbed his forehead. He remembered Marius telling them what happened after the barricade fell, how he turned to alcohol to try to ease the pain. As Marius shared those details, Gavroche noticed how Cosette's eyes would glaze over with tears, her hand squeezing Marius' in silent support as he shared the those details of his life. 

Courfeyrac knew how much some of them struggled in their fight to stay sober and clean. Shaking his head, vanishing the thought that popped into his head: Would Grantaire derail everyone's progress? 

Courfeyrac turned to Joly, changing the subject, "Found anything other than his art?"

"He does commissions," Joly informed the pair, "It says to email for more details."

Courfeyrac smirked, "I do think that wall needs brightening up," his eyes staring at the gothic canvas currently hanging there. 

"I'm not taking that down," Jehan called out, smirking at Courfeyrac's scowl. 

"I don't even know what it is!"

"It's important to me," Jehan stated, small smile now gone.

Courfeyrac paused, muttering, "We're going to have to get something to match it."

"What if he doesn't want to see us?" Gavroche spoke up, "What if he's seen us before and walked away?"

Joly knows that Gavroche's abandonment issues still fester from his past life, he smiled, "If he doesn't want to see us, then there must be a reason, right?"

Gavroche nodded.

"And if there is, we can work through it, like in therapy."

"And if he doesn't remember us? Musichetta didn't remember."

Joly nodded, "It took time for her to remember- she's still remembering now."

Joly and Bossuet still fill in the gaps in her memory and she makes her own connections from there. She remembered Joly and Bossuet, the moments they shared together. But she never remembered much from the time around the barricade, only remember cleaning their blood off the streets afterwards. 

"So you'll make him remember?" 

Joly smirked, nodding, "But first, we've got to contact him." 

"If he doesn't want to see us," Enjolras' voice suddenly stated from across the room, "He wouldn't respond if you do email." 

"Were you listening in this whole time?" Courfeyrac spun around to face him.

"Then we need someone else to do it," Jehan mentioned, picking up a business card sitting at the end of their desk, "I think I know who." 


	4. Chapter 4

Enjolras slowly released the breath he was holding, bracing himself against the door.

This was the moment their plans came together. The Amis would be reunited once more. 

As he heard Marius and Valjean arrive, he wondered if it was too late opt out like Bossuet did. 

_"No," Bossuet stated._

_Courfeyrac brought his hand to Bossuet's forehead, "Are you ill?" He joked, frowning as Bossuet moved away from his hand._

_Courfeyrac let his arm drop to his side, worry creasing his brow._

_"I can't see him," he signed, glancing at Musichetta, "I'm not ready."_

"Enjolras," Courfeyrac called, "He's going to be here soon."

Enjolras pushed himself off the door. He told himself that he could do this- he faced down barrels of guns before. He was just meeting an old friend. Enjolras paused, letting his hand rest on the door handle. But they weren't friends back then. They were in the same circle, yes, but Enjolras never considered the other man a friend. Enjolras considered Grantaire more of an confusing annoyance than a friend. Enjolras looked down at his hand, thinking about the possibility of them as friends. About him being friends with the man who joined him in his execution when he could have ran. 

He stepped out of his bedroom. 

Their living room had quickly become their temporary office after a burst pipe banished them from their previous. After a few panic filled hours, it was decided that their office would re-locate to the residence Enjolras shared with Jehan, Courfeyrac and Combeferre. Furniture was slightly re-arranged to make all the desks fit, but they had eventually created a space for them to work. 

Enjolras strode over to where the others were already seated, sitting next to Marius. He knew how much this day meant to Marius, how long he waited. Marius had postponed his wedding to Cosette until all of his friends had been found. Determined to have all his friends there to celebrate with him this time. Cosette had agreed, knowing how important it was to Marius and joked that she could wait for her second wedding. 

The blond placed his hand over Marius' wrist, giving a gentle squeeze to hopefully calm his nerves. Marius gave a small smile before his fingers resumed their tapping. 

Just as Enjolras was retracting his hand, a knock sounded at the door. 

Everyone halted. 

This was the moment they had waited for, yet everyone's stomach were weighed down with unease. They didn't know the outcome of this meeting. They didn't know if they were going to gain a friend or meet a stranger in their friend's body. 

Valjean moved towards the door, looking back at the men one last time before opening it. 

"Monsieur Valjean?"

Enjolras' chest sized as he heard his voice. It sounded lighter than it had all those years ago, less gravelly but it was unmistakably the voice that rambled throughout meetings. 

"Yes, you must be Grantaire," Valjean stepped backwards, beckoning Grantaire inside, "Come in."

Valjean stepped to the side, finally allowing Enjolras to see the man he died beside. Though, as Enjolras saw tight curls pulled back into a messy bun, stray strands falling onto copper skin and blue eyes lines with gold- he wondered if he was about to meet a man. Thinking back to when Jehan came out, how they reminded everyone not to presume someone's gender or pronouns. Jehan's eyes widen as they also came to realise that they all presumed, letting out a soft string of curses.

Enjolras thought back to the pictures Marius and Cosette sent. Grantaire was stripped of makeup, as far as Enjolras or anyone could tell, while hair was mostly covered by a green beanie. 

Valjean guided Grantaire over to the sofas, eyes flicking between the artist and the lawyers. When Grantaire looked over at the group, there was only the same smile that was directed at Valjean just moments ago. Enjolras' shoulders sagged slightly.

Jehan abruptly stood up, straitening their jacket and held out a hand, "I'm Jehan," they smiled, "Jehan Prouvaire," the pair clasped hands, "They/them pronouns."

"Grantaire," a slight smirk appeared, "He/him pronouns."

Everyone soon followed Jehan's example. When it was Enjolras' turn- a shot of terror ran through him when Grantaire's hand slipped out of his. 

He could almost feel the phantom bullets piecing through his body, pinning him to the wall, head involuntarily hanging down. The blurred image of Grantaire's body at his feet, blood seeping out of him. 

Quickly retaking his seat, scrunching his hands up and taking a few deep breaths as Valjean gestured for Grantaire to sit down opposite the blond. 

"I'm sorry," Valjean suddenly said, "But have we met before?"

A flash of panic fled across Grantaire's face before he gave a faux smile, "I don't think we have, Monsieur," he shrugged and offered an excuse, "We may have seen each other in passing."

Valjean looked unconvinced but didn't press further, taking a seat and changing the subject, "Did you bring the drafts we talked about?"

Jehan had managed to persuade Valjean into contacting Grantaire, posing as the firms owner and contacting him for help with their re-brand. It would have been true a long time ago until Valjean ceased practicing as a lawyer. Valjean still manages to direct people to the law firm, reassuring people that the group of lawyers would do everything they could to help them. 

Enjolras watched as Grantaire opened the folder he placed on the table, flipping it open before turning it for the others to see. 

They hadn't completely planned to carry on the ruse for this long, all of them hoped that Grantaire would remember and the plan would be scrapped. Then they would spend the rest of the day getting re-acquainted with each other. 

Instead they were looking over the designs for a re-brand. Grantaire guided them though the designs, making notes about the group's comments along the way. 

Enjolras was certainly surprised by the amount of work he was being shown, thinking back to the failed tasks he had given Grantaire. As he listened to Grantaire talk, he heard passion fill his voice. Feeling a smile tug at his lips at the passion he desperately hoped to hear all those years ago while also pushing down the anger that this passion in the man could have helped fuel their fight somehow. 

Marius pulled the folder closer, squinting and asking a question about a detail. Grantaire stretched his arm, sleeve sliding up slightly giving Enjolras a glimpse of a raised jagged scar.

Enjolras didn't want to jump to conclusions. There could be a different reason for that scar, his eyes absentmindedly travelled to his old acquaintance's other wrist. Would there be another scar under that sleeve too? 

_"He's probably dead."_

_Enjolras stopped outside Combeferre's bedroom door._

_Jehan often climbed into one of their roommates beds, saying that they didn't like being alone. They all understood._

They had thought he was dead. The thought crossed everyone's minds. Most of the causes of death were related to drugs and alcohol. But looking at the scar, Enjolras thought about a new possibility. 

"This?" Grantaire asked, placing a finger over the image.

Marius nodded and Grantaire retracting his finger from the page. Sleeve settling back into place. 


	5. Chapter 5

A string of curses left his mouth as he slammed the door shut. Gáta and Ailouros jumped slightly from where they were perched, looking at him in alarm. Running a hand over the pair as he passed them, trying to calm them and himself. He let his nephew name them when he was still a toddler when Grantaire and his sister had been trying to teach him some Greek words. Grantaire hadn't yet names the kittens, so when his nephew started pointing at the two felines and proudly saying what would be their future names, it stuck. 

His sister was able to keep her child this time. And her life. 

Grantaire shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts, dropping the folders down onto the nearest surface, running a hand through his hair, "It's not real," he muttered to himself as flung himself onto the sofa. 

He pulled out his phone, opened the conversation between himself and Valjean. Was it too late to quit? Would that look suspicious? His teeth gnawed on his thumbnail, Grantaire pulled away in shock, looking at the thumb that had absentmindedly creeped towards his mouth. It would be suspicious to quit, he decided as he threw his phone down next to him. 

"He doesn't remember," Marius sighed, sinking further into the sofa cushions.

"Then we make him remember," Courfeyrac stated, pulling out his phone, "Joly and Bossuet may still have what they used to help Musichetta remember."

"She hasn't fully remembered everything, though," Jehan reminded him, "And we'd need other information and images to trigger Grantaire's memories."

"But, do we want to do that?" Enjolras asked.

"What?" Marius asked, "Why wouldn't we?"

"He's different now," Enjolras looked at the trio, "He seems calmer, sober and much more productive," he gestured to the designs Grantaire left, "What would happen if he remembers?"

Jehan looked down, recalling how they dealt with the memories. Grantaire was addicted in the past and they weren't sure if the present Grantaire dealt with addiction too. Would they ruin his progress if he was working on staying sober and clean? 

"Drink," Marius muttered. 

"We don't know what he'd do," Courfeyrac said, "And we can help him this time- we know more about addiction than we did back then."

"If I may ask?" Valjean walked back over to the group after silently observing, "What do the others think?"

After that question, they organised for a meeting in their living room. Weekly movie nights already were held there, so there were enough seats on the sofas to accommodate everyone comfortably. 

Courfeyrac gave Enjolras one last look before addressing the room, "Grantaire doesn't remember and we wanted to ask everyone their thoughts about not telling Grantaire about the past." 

Courfeyrac had agreed to start the conversation off- not wanting Enjolras to have the full burden of the conversation rest on his shoulders. 

"What?" Gavroche looked around the room in confusion, "Why wouldn't we tell him?"

"He may be better off not knowing," Enjolras said from beside Courfeyrac, "He seems sober and if he were to remember, he could go back to how he was before."

"He has a right to know," Combeferre pointed out. 

"This could destroy his life," Enjolras replied, "We could destroy his life."

"Again," Bossuet muttered. 

Musichetta held his hand tighter. Joly looked between his partners at the other side of the room. The pair were growing distant with him these days, talking in hushed tones and quickly stopping when Joly entered the room. They barely spent time together and when they did it felt unnatural. His mind had already though up the different possibilities about their behaviour and all of them led to the same conclusion: their thrupple was ending. 

"Musichetta," Enjolras called, "Would you have preferred to not remember?"

"But I did remember," Musichetta said," I remembered Joly and Lesgle's faces. I didn't remember anything else until you all told me. But no, I'm happy I remembered," she smiled at her partners, "Because I then finally knew why in my memories there where faces of two men I've never met before."

"Grantaire could remember our faces, like Musichetta did?" Bahorel suggested. 

"It didn't seem like he recognised any of us," Jehan said, "But maybe he would remember one of you?" Jehan addressed the room but focused on Bossuet and Joly. 

"We can schedule another meeting?" Courfeyrac offered. 

And so another meeting was scheduled. Grantaire had reluctantly agreed and so days later, he found himself standing outside their door again. He didn't have to wait long before Valjean ushered him in. 

"I'm sorry," Valjean directed him towards the others, "A family emergency came up," he swiftly lied as Grantaire took the open seat next to Marius, "I won't be able to stay but I'll call you after to go over any details." 

Grantaire paused at that information, not liking the thought of being alone with the lawyers, eventually nodding as he tried to keep any anxiety out of his voice, "Do you want me to leave anything for you to look over?" 

"No, that will not be necessary," Valjean smiled. 

When Valjean left, the lawyers exchanged glances- nobody knowing how to start the conversation off. 

Jehan placed their hand over the folder Grantaire pulled out and was about to open, "We need to talk to you."

Grantaire looked between the folder and Jehan, "About the designs?" 

Jehan looked at the others, swallowed before asking, "Do you believe in past lives?"


End file.
